


Beauty from Pain

by mskullgirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Ramsay is one messed up motherfucker, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskullgirl/pseuds/mskullgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: Ramsay find out that he shows his love by hurting people. Not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but here you go!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty from Pain

Ramsay’s life was a whirlwind of pain. From the day he was dragged kicking and screaming into the world to the day he would eventually be dragged out of it pain had been his only constant. He was conceived in an act of violence, it was only fitting that he lived up to that.

            Over time he learned to tolerate and even crave when his mother hit him across the face. He purposefully messed up his chores, cursed at her, called her a whore, just so she would strike. He had very few memories of kindness, a kiss on the cheek, a pat o the head, a nice word. He waited for his heart to race, for a warm feeling to fill him up. Yet it never came; the kind touches didn’t affect him in the slightest and for a while he thought maybe he just couldn’t feel anything.

            He remembered the day very clearly. He had been carrying a bucket of water into the house and tripped, spilling it all over the floor, extinguishing the small fire crackling in the grate. It was a cold night and the rain had soaked the last of their wood. He knew the blow was coming before it did and he tried unsuccessfully to doge it. The beating went on and on and on, his mother alternating between fists and a folded belt. When at last she let up Ramsay saw that there were tears in her eyes.

            “Why?” he managed to ask, blood trickling down his face.

            “You look like him.” She said ad surprisingly there was no anger in her voice, only sadness. “Exactly like him.” He hadn’t needed to ask who he was.

            She never apologized, never tried to comfort him or even acknowledge what she had done. But Ramsay didn’t forget her tears and realized that the beating was the closest thing to affection she could bear to show him. For the first time, as he lay shivering and bruised on the cold floor Ramsay really felt alive.

 

            For years afterwards Ramsay explored the many varieties of pain. He tried cutting his own skin with a sharp blade but that had no effect. He threw rocks at birds but seeing them fall wasn’t the same. He was afraid then, deeply afraid that he may never have that feeling ever again. So he tried to pretend. He hunted down whores to kill them, flayed men alive to watch they bleed out. For a while it worked, he got a temporary high, which quickly faded into emptiness. The more he killed and maimed the less he seemed to feel. In frustration he beat a kitchen maid, realizing to his horror that her tear streaked face and broken sobs didn’t make him feel anything. It was as though he had been turned to stone.

 

            The first time he saw Reek he knew there was something different. He saw something in those pale eyes, something he remembered seeing in his own mother’s face. Anger, yes, but anger that was hiding pain. When he saw Reek bleed, howling in pain he felt as though his senses had been set alight. As he slid his knife into the exposed skin of his chest he felt sparks alight behind his eyes. He was drowning, consumed with flame, and falling through the air all at once. Every scream, every tiny whimper that escaped Reek’s mouth sent his flying higher than he had ever been before, like the most powerful of drugs. Maybe it was then he realized what he was feeling, maybe not. Either way he slept with a smile on his face that night.

 

            “What is your name?”

            “Theon Greyjoy.”

            “Tsk, you ever do learn do you? Let’s try this again. Your name. Or I’ll take another toe. ”

            “Reek. Your Reek.”

            “Very good. But I think you might need a reminder. You never can seem to remember your name.”

            “Please my lord please. I will be good. I promise.”

            “Hush. Now be a good dog and stay quiet. I think 50 lashes will do the trick. What do you say Reek?”

            “As it please you my lord.”

 

            “You’re not eating Reek. I give you a meal fit for a lord and you barely touch it. Is this how you repay my kindness?”

            “M’lord please my teeth…”

            “Now whose fault is that? If you hadn’t back talked me I wouldn’t have had to smash those lovely white teeth.”

            “Please. It hurts.”

            “Here; potatoes. You can eat those. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous. I could easily send you downstairs to the boys and let you eat blood and cum for dinner.”

            “Yes m’lord. Forgive me m’lord. Reek will be good. Reek, it rhymes with sneak.”

            “Good. Now eat. Why are you crying pet? Aren’t you happy?”

            “Yes m’lord. Very happy.”

 

            “Stop squirming, we’re almost done.”

            “Please m’lord. I can’t take it. I’ll do whatever you like. You can take me like a woman, use my mouth, anything you like.”

            “So impatient pup. There’ll be time for that yet never you worry. Don’t you see? This way everyone will know you’re mine. They’ll see my name carved in your skin and known not to touch what is mine.”

            “M’lord I AM your. Only yours. Please stop.”

            “Nearly there pup, hush. There. Now every time you look there you’ll see my name staring back at you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? To know you belong to me?”

            “Yes m’lord. Reek belongs to Ramsay.”

            “That’s my boy. Now give us a kiss.”

 

            “It’s a bath, for you. A treat.”

            “M’lord I’m not allowed.”

            “I’m allowing it. Go on now get in. There see? Isn’t that nice? Stop flinching pet, I’m only making you nice and clean for me. You did very, very well. Good dogs get treats.”

            “I only want to serve you m’lord.”

            “I know. Relax Reek. Let me take care of you. Do you love me Reek?”

            “Of course I do m’lord.”

            “Show me.”

 

            “How about a game then Reek?”

            “If it please you m’lord.”

            “I’ll bet you I can make you come even without your favorite toy. If I do I get to fuck you with a knife. Now now calm down, just the handle. If you don’t you get to fuck me. Would you like that Reek?”

            “It is not my place to do so m’lord. I am here to serve.”

            “Will you play or not?”

            “Yes m’lord.”

            “There, you. I told you. Who knew you were such a little whore. Practically begging me for it. You know what happens now little Reek. Spread your legs for me now. I’ll let you what, if I can make you come from this knife alone you can stay here tonight. How does that sound?”

            “You are too generous m’lord.”

            “I know, I know. No tears pet, you’ll get use to it in a minuet. The only pleasure worth getting is the pleasure that comes from pain.”

 

            It took a long time, a lot of breaking down and rebuilding but he finally understood. He could see it now. When Ramsay bit his pet he knew it was just a forceful kiss. When Ramsay flogged him he did so tenderly, like a lover. When they fucked fast and hard Reek knew it was better then the gentlest love making.

            _Don’t you see Reek?_ Ramsay thought as those wonderful lips wept blood. _Everything you felt before was a pretty lie. This is the truth, painful, and real. This is my gift to you pet. Some men go their whole lives without feeling, really feeling. But not you my pet, not you._

            They fucked against a wall and tears streamed down Reek’s face though he made no sound. Ramsay’s nails dug red crescent marks into his skin, his teeth nipped at the pale neck. When Reek came it was with Ramsay’s name on his lips. Afterwards they lay still, gasping for breath. Ramsay leans down and kisses Reek, a sharp kiss full of teeth and bitterness. He tastes blood on Reek’s lips.

            “I love you.”

            Reek squeezes Ramsay’s hand so hard that bruises start to form. And he knows he understands.

           

 

           

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. SEND ME MORE THRAMSAY PROMPTS. I will write the shit out of them.


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